A Normal, Apple Pie Life
by Redheadlass
Summary: Dean and Jessie go to live with Lisa and Ben Braeden during the break between Season 5 and 6. Spanking.
1. Turning Over a New Leaf

The long drive to Lisa's house gave me a lot of time to think. I knew that Sam's jump into the pit had wounded Dean deeply. I could see it in his tight grip on the steering wheel (that kept his hands from shaking), his stoic expression (to keep his sadness from showing through), and his stiff shoulders (a sign he was going to "stay strong", whatever that meant). Losing Sam loomed over both of us, for me a loss too big to cry over. I wanted to, just in case it would make me hurt a little less, but I was also afraid to because what if once I started crying, I never stopped? The hole inside me was deep enough that I could get lost in it, so I tried not to think about it at all.

And then there was Lisa. I still kinda thought Dean was a little crazy for thinking she'd just let us live in her house and be her new family. First off, she knew him, but she didn't know me at all and who'd want a kid with anger issues and who started fires living with them. Not that I'd ever started a major fire on purpose, but you know what I mean. If I ever lost control, who knows what I could do on accident, and I knew what I'd already done on accident… knew it by heart.

I'd promised Dean that I would try as hard as I could to make our new life work, a normal, apple-pie life as he and Sam had called it. I didn't want to. I wanted Sam back and I wanted to hunt but Dean had practically forbidden me from trying either, all but saying it outright. He was worried about my jealousy and my temper, and who wouldn't be with the shit I'd pulled in Alliance with Jesse the anti-Christ and then again in Blue Earth when I ran off on my skateboard, not to mention the thousands of other times I'd fucked up. I'd promised, though, and I meant to do my best. It didn't matter how I felt, I wouldn't react. I swore it to myself, linking my pinkies in a self-pinky swear.

Sometime during the drive, I lay down on the front seat with my head on Dean's thigh, the middle seatbelt wrapped around my waist, still thinking and lost in the cadence of Dean's classic rock and the gentle vibrations of the Impala as it ate up the miles. Through the windshield, the stars shone above me in the Milky Way, only blocked out by trees and clouds. I slept.

Dean gently shook me awake hours later. The moon was high in the sky but suburban street lights blocked out the stars.

"Are we there?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Yeah, sweetheart. We're here," he replied. I stumbled out of the car with him, without shoes, and followed him up the walkway, my stomach beginning to flutter with nerves. What if they didn't like me, what if they wouldn't talk Dean because I was there. I didn't want to wreck his promise to Sam. Was I strong enough to leave him and go back to Bobby's?

And then Dean was knocking on the front door. I slid behind him and hooked my fingers through his belt loops.

The door opened.

"Hey, Lisa," Dean said, his voice breaking a little.

"Oh, thank god," Lisa responded breathlessly. "Are you all right?"

Dean nodded and answered unevenly, "Yeah." He paused and dropped his head before raising it up again to say "If it's not too late, I think I'd like to take you up on that beer."

"It's never too late," Lisa replied. Then Dean stepped forward and my fingers slipped from his belt loops as they embraced each other.

"Shh, " Lisa said to Dean. "It's ok. It's going to be ok."

They hugged for a long time, and I stood uncertainly, rubbing one foot against the opposite calf, feeling lost and alone. But I'd promised, no reaction, so I just waited, picking at my fingernails.

Finally, Dean broke away from Lisa and stepped to the side a little. "Uh, Lisa, this is Jessie, my daughter."

It was my first look at her, and she was beautiful. Taller than me, but still shorter than Dean, she had long dark brown hair, a straight nose, and freckles. Her brown eyes were gentle. Swallowing hard, I stepped forward and extended my hand to her. "Adopted," I added, trying to avoid the inevitable 'but you're too young to have a daughter that age' or a comment on the implied virility of him fathering someone when he was fifteen.

Surprised, Lisa paused before taking my hand and shaking it. "Lisa," she said.

"Nice to meet you," I replied stiffly and took my hand back. Then I looked up at Dean who was looking at me like I'd grown two heads. He shook his head and turned back to Lisa.

"Come in," she said and stepped back away from the door. We went into the house and Lisa led us into the dining room, which was to the right of the door. "Sit down and I'll get you that beer." She turned to go into the kitchen, which was right behind the dining room. The two rooms were separated by a little half-wall.

"Actually," Dean said, stepping away from me, toward her. "Do you mind if Jessie gets some more sleep on your sofa before that?"

"Dad," I started to object, but still looking at her, he pointed at me. I shut up.

"Of course," Lisa replied, and I thought I heard a little relief in her voice. It stung and my lip crept in between my teeth without my noticing. She led us into the living room, which was on the left side of the front door, and plumped up a pillow that was already there. "Let me get a blanket…" she said.

"I have my shawl," I said, sliding it off my shoulders and showing her. "I'm ok."

Dean waited until I'd laid down and then took my shawl from me to spread it over me and tuck me in. Lisa watched him pull the shawl up around my chin and kiss my forehead. "I love you. Sleep well, sweetheart," he said quietly.

"Ok," I said, and giving me a sad smile, he turned away from me and followed Lisa into the dining room. I fought tears. Why did it feel like I'd lost something?

* * *

I woke up the next morning to a boy's voice demanding loudly, "Who's that girl sleeping in the living room?", then a rushed shushing sound that followed. Still hurting, I rolled over and faced the back of the sofa, hugging the shawl to me, missing Bree's warm comfort even after her death. Oh god, she'd died a second time for me, rushing to save my from my own foolishness, getting between me and Lucifer's attack, taking the blow for me, giving me just enough time to hide again. My breath caught in my throat and I sobbed quietly into the shawl, loving her, missing her, wishing I could thank her for both times she'd saved me, until guilt over her deaths rose up again. I pushed away the tears, rolling over to grab a tissue from the box on the coffee table. I didn't deserve her. I should've done better. I could've done better.

Once I'd cleaned up, I pulled Bree's shawl around my shoulders and crept to the kitchen, hoping to overhear something, but all I heard was the boy's voice… Ben?… talking to Dean about his baseball team. Had Lisa and Dean been up all night? Or had they gone to bed and gotten up before me? Had he slept in her room or was it too soon for that? I didn't see a sleeping roll on the floor in the living room.

Those thoughts jumbled through my head while I turned the corner so everyone could see me. Lisa, Ben, and Dean sat around a table in a small breakfast nook. Ben, a short, kind-looking kid with dark hair and eyes, stopped mid-sentence when he saw me, and that made Lisa and Dean look my way.

"Hi," I whispered, crossing my arms over my chest, the shawl pulling around me closer. "You're Ben, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "And you're Jessie."

"Yeah."

We stared at each other until he glanced uncertainly at his mom.

"Come in and sit down, sweetheart," Dean said, catching the glance. "I'll get you some breakfast."

The talk around the table was stilted at first. No one seemed to know what to say with me there. Eventually though, Dean asked Ben a question about his baseball team. Ben's eyes lit up and he started rambling happily again, which took the focus off me and made it easier to eat. Not a lot easier, though. I choked down an egg, all the while noticing that Lisa kept giving me little looks when she thought I wasn't looking, like she was trying to study me. Any other kid may not have noticed, but I was on high alert in a new place, automatically using some of the hunter training Sam and Dean had given me so I could fight Gabby.

With her eyes on me, I couldn't eat any more, so I pushed my plate away, leaving the pancakes and sausage untouched, and started to get up. While still responding to Ben's jabbering, Dean put a hand on my arm and I slumped back down in the seat. When Ben paused to take a breath, Dean looked at me.

"You need to finish at least one pancake and the sausage," he said, taking his hand off my arm. Immediately all the attention was back on me and I flushed.

"I'm not hungry," I whispered, glancing first at Ben and then at Lisa. Dean seemed to get it.

"And if I let you go eat that in the living room?" Dean asked.

"We're not allowed to eat in the living room," Ben piped up immediately.

"Shush, honey," Lisa said to him, not taking her eyes from me.

"I… guess?" I replied, and Dean picked up my plate and led me out of the kitchen. He set the plate on the coffee table. I sat down on the couch and looked up at him.

"You've got ten minutes," Dean said. "One pancake and both sausages."

"Okay," I replied, dropping my eyes and picking up the fork. I heard him sigh above me.

"You know what I want to hear, sweetheart."

I sighed too. "Yes, Dad."

"Good girl." He ruffled my hair and I watched his legs walk out of the living room. With the weight of all those eyes off me, I let out a huge breath, abandoned the fork, and picked up the pancake. When Dean came back ten minutes later, my plate was clean. He smiled at me and gestured for me to follow him.

"We've got some stuff to tell you two," he said, dropping his arm around my shoulders while I tried to balance the silverware on the empty plate as we walked. Once I was settled back at the table, Lisa spoke up.

"Dean and I have been talking," she said and then focused on Ben. "And Dean and Jessie are going to move in with us."

Ben and I exchanged looks, his confused and mine concerned. "Aren't you supposed to date a while first?" Ben asked.

"We did date a while," Dean said. "It was just a long time ago."

"I thought that was just one night," I started.

"We dated," Lisa broke in, blushing. "And now you and your dad are going to move in with us." She looked from Ben to me and back, quickly regaining her composure. "But that means that there are going to be some changes."

"First, this house is too small," Dean said. "So we're going to have to move to a new house. Until then, you two are going to have to share a room."

Ben's eyes popped. "Share? But she's a girl!"

"Really? That's news to me," I responded. Dean shot me a look but I ignored him. Ben didn't seem to notice.

"We're going to split your room down the middle with bookcases," Lisa explained to him. "And hang curtains over the entrances. That will give you both some privacy."

"And it's only temporary," Dean said. "As soon as we can find a house, we'll move."

Ben had a hundred more questions, all of which had to do with things like whether or not I'd be able to look through the cracks between the bookcases (as if I'd do that) and did it really have to be half the room (according to Lisa, yes). I leaned back in the chair and watched Dean and Lisa satisfy his curiosity. I didn't care what they did. As far as I was concerned, they could put me on the couch until they found a new house. I even suggested that at one point, but Lisa was adamant about their solution despite the fact that Ben didn't seem too happy with it.

Dean, Lisa, and Ben spent the rest of the morning tearing apart and reconfiguring his room, leaving me on my own to explore the house. They were right, it was a smallish house. When you came in the front door, the living room was on the left and the dining room was on the right. If you walked straight from the front door, you hit the kitchen, which had the breakfast nook, and behind the kitchen was the door into Ben's room on the left. Past that was a short hall with a door into Lisa's yoga studio on the right, a bathroom on the left, and the back door to the porch at the end. If you turned left at the front door and walked through the living room, there was a little hallway that led to the master suite. From what I could tell, Ben's room and the master suite shared a wall, which meant that if they were in there, they'd be able to hear any noise we made in Ben's room after light's out. Although, with the way he was acting at having to share his room with me, even short-term, we probably wouldn't be having any late night conversations.

I sighed and dropped onto the couch. He was going to hate me.

They didn't finish moving things around until about an hour after lunch. Dean had told me to stay out of the way while they were working, and I'd spent some of the time doing the breakfast dishes, hoping to make it easier for them to accept me there, and the rest of it reading on the couch. Dean called me in when they were done and stood with his thumbs hooked into his pockets while I looked.

They had literally split the room in half about a foot inside the doorway. There were sheets pinned and hung over cord at each entrance. Ben's was pulled back and I could see him busily putting his stuff away, a frown on his face. I pulled back the curtain on my side and found a dresser and a roll-away bed made up with miscellaneous bedclothes pressed up against the wall on the left. There was about two feet of space between the bed and the three bookcases that split the room. Two had been turned to face Ben's side and one faced mine. At the top was a make-shift closet where shelves had been removed and a bar had been installed. At the bottom were three shelves for me to put things on.

It was more storage than I'd had in literally years. I stared, unsure how to react. Excitement warred with tears. I didn't have enough stuff to fill the amount of space I'd been given, but I had my own bed, but the walls were so bare, but look at all the shelves for even more books, but the bed was covered with cast-offs. In the end, I realized it didn't matter how I felt. I knew how they wanted me to react. I shoved down the sadness and turned to Dean.

"Thank you! I love it!" I half-lied, hugging him and then Lisa. "Can we get my stuff out of the Impala?"

Dean went for me and after he dropped my two bags on my bed, he paused on his way out of my half of the room. "I'm proud of you, little girl." But after the curtain closed, I sank down onto the roll-away bed and buried my face in my hands to cry.


	2. Plans

I must've fallen asleep because Dean woke me up with a gentle shake.

"Jessie, it's time for dinner," he said.

"I'm not hungry," I muttered and rolled over to face the wall, hugging my shawl tighter.

I felt him sit down on the roll-away and he put one hand in front of my belly, leaning over me. "You have to eat, sweetheart."

"No, I don't," I replied, not opening my eyes.

"Yes, you do. You're losing weight again. I can tell."

"Not my fault," I muttered into the shawl. "I was sick."

He didn't say anything to me for a moment and I opened my eyes to find him watching me with a worried expression.

Guilt descended. I sighed and sat up. Dean moved to accommodate me. "Fine, I'll go eat stupid dinner."

Now that I was listening, I could hear clattering in the kitchen and Ben and Lisa talking, their voices muffled. I went to slide my legs off the bed, but Dean didn't move and I looked up at him in confusion.

"I want to talk to you first," he said at my expression.

I rolled my eyes and ran a hand through my tangled hair, criss-crossing my legs in front of me. "Fine, what?" I grumbled.

Dean's eyebrows rose. "I know it's been a long day, little girl, but lose the attitude." He watched my face for a second, but I just stared down at my shawl. Don't react, I reminded myself. It doesn't matter what he says, don't react. "You've got some new rules," he finally said.

"Great," I said. "What are they?"

"Jessie…" he warned.

"What? I'm not doing anything. I was just asking!" I objected. God, if he would just say whatever it was so I could go get the stupid meal over with. This was agonizing.

Dean frowned but let it go, thankfully. "Most of them are like your rules now. Don't leave the house and yard without asking, keep your phone on you, chores and schoolwork comes first, once you have them."

"I'm really getting chores?" I whined.

"Yeah, and once we figure out what they are, I expect you to do them without whining and complaining," Dean said. "It's part of being a family."

"I already had a family and I didn't have chores," I grumbled. Dean shifted and ran a hand down his face, and I realized he was trying really hard not to lose his patience with me. "Sorry," I said, looking down at the shawl in my lap.

"I know you get into trouble around other kids…"

"I do not!' I objected, stung. I slammed my hand down hard on the bed. "That's completely unfair! There was other stuff going on and…

"Do you want to talk about this with you over my knee, little girl?" Dean growled.

"No, but you're…" I looked into his face and stopped, trying again in a nicer tone. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? This is just a lot to take in, and I don't mean to get into trouble around other kids. It just happens…"

"Well it better not happen anymore, and to make sure of that and that you're safe, you need to ask permission before you go into other kids' houses or wander off to the park with them, or anything like that. Lisa or I need to know where you are all the time, and you always come home when the streetlights come on."

"Dad, why are you even worrying about this? I don't even know anyone."

"You will. You always make friends." He ruffled my hair. I smiled a little. "And speaking of Lisa, if she tells you to do something, you do it. I don't wanna hear anything like 'you're not my mom'. As far as your concerned, if she says it, I said it."

Seeing the serious look on his face, I nodded and said, "Yes, Dad."

"And another thing…" His expression grave, he took my chin in his and and made me meet his eyes. "No more hunting, at all, ever. That means you stay out of the trunk, you don't research, you don't prep weapons…" He took something from behind his back and held it up in front of me. My face paled. "No occult books, period," he added, dropping the book I'd grabbed from Bobby's onto the bed between us. "You will be a very sorry little girl if you break any of those rules. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," I whispered. He let go of my chin.

"Tomorrow, you're writing a letter to Bobby apologizing for taking this book without permission and you're shipping it back to him. You are lucky you didn't have a chance to try anything in there."

"Dad, I…"

Dean pulled me into his arms before I could finish. "Jessie, I know how hard this is. I know you miss Sam. I know that everything is changing on you and you don't know what to do with yourself, but this is our chance to have a normal life. You have to give it a shot." I held onto him tightly while he added, "You promised me you'd try. You need to try to make it work."

"I am," I said into his shoulder. "I'm not doing anything. All I've done all day is what you told me to and sleep."

Dean let me go. "Then why did I find that book in your stuff?"

I flushed this time. "I picked it up before," I whispered, not meeting his eyes. "Before I promised." But the fact that he'd found it hurt. I would've tried that spell if he hadn't found the book, regardless of my promise. Now I wouldn't have a chance.

Dean stood up. "Well, no more of that. Now brush your hair and come out and eat dinner," he said. "Lisa made meatloaf." He said it like a starving man and I gave him a small smile. He ruffled my hair and left, dropping the curtain behind him. I went to pull the hairbrush out of my duffel, but when I dropped the duffel on the bed, I realized that the book was still in the middle of the bed. Glancing at the curtain, I dug into my pocket for my phone and flipped the book open to the resurrection spell I'd seen. I took several quick pictures of the pages and shut the book. I was obediently brushing my hair when Dean came back in the room a minute later to retrieve it.

I headed to the dinner table with the knowledge that the chance wasn't gone. I might still be able to get Sam back. I just needed the ingredients.

* * *

 _Dean crashes against the windshield. I barely stifle a scream and start shaking, cold all over. Lucifer advances on Dean; then I hear two shots and look out the window to see Bobby's head whip to the side. He falls dead on the ground. I bite my lip, tasting blood. Lucifer turns his attention back to Dean, throwing punch after punch, and I can't stand it anymore. I open the car door and get out. Dean falls to the ground at my feet and I open my furnace and push its contents at Lucifer. It does nothing… Then Lucifer looks at me and raises his hand._

 _Bree comes barreling out of nowhere and grabs Lucifer's face in both hands, screaming into it. Lucifer steps back and punches, his hand going straight through her midsection. She falls to the ground at Lucifer's feet. I run to her side, ignoring Lucifer._

 _"Bree," I gasp. "Oh, Bree, no, not again."_

 _"Jessie, you have to hold the blood in," Bree whispers. I gather up her skirts and push them against her bleeding belly. The blood spurts, soaking the skirt around the wound. I watch the blood creep slowly outward, a sick feeling inside me. It's going so much faster than the last time. There's no way she's going to make it. I press anyway, hoping._

 _Behind me, I hear Lucifer beating on Dean, hit after hit thudding against him. I can't abandon him, not when I could help save him."Bree, I'm so sorry, I can't. I have to help Dad."_

 _"Go, child," she whispers. "Abandon me as you did before." My heart thuds hard against my ribcage, guilt makes me nauseated, and I take my hands away from the hole in her belly. When I look up again, she is already dead. I sob once and turn towards Dean's fight._

 _Dean is pressed up against the side of the Impala, Lucifer beating him. I run towards them, but I never make it, even though they are only a few feet behind Bree. I run and run but they only seem to get farther away, and then Lucifer lands one final punch and Dean's head explodes in a red mist._

I gasped awake, only barely strangling a scream. The room was dark and I could hear Ben groan on the other side of the bookcases. "Don't you ever sleep through the night?" he muttered only barely loud enough for me to hear.

"I'm sorry," I half-whispered back. I didn't bother to explain to him that I had nightmares, that I'd always had nightmares, and that he should be grateful he hadn't gone through what I had or he'd have nightmares too. Instead, I rolled over and clutched my shawl to me. "I'm so sorry, Bree," I whispered, even though I know that she can't hear me anymore. I didn't know what time it was but I did know that there was no way I was going back to sleep tonight, not without being able to get into bed with Dean, and that was not an option. Not with him sleeping in a different room with his new/old girlfriend.

It had been only been a week, and the nightmares were getting worse, not better. I waited until I heard Ben fall back to sleep, his breath deepening to tiny, almost snores, before I got out of bed and picked up my phone to look at the resurrection spell again. The ingredients weren't so bad, black candles, a white candle, ash, a pentagram, and a silver item that the spell would consume. The only problem was that I also needed something that linked me to Sam. Nothing I had right now did that, and I could only think of three things: my schoolbooks, which Bobby promised to send back to South Dakota school board; the bracelet I'd made Sam back on our first Christmas; or my snowman, which I'd lost in that old abandoned house when we'd been attacked by hell hounds. Even if I could somehow get back there, it had probably burned in the fire I'd accidentally set when we'd run.

I shut my phone and briefly wondered if I could trick Bobby or Dean into doing the spell for me, because they probably each had something that linked them to Sam, but then I discarded that idea. Part of the spell was intent, and I doubted any lie I could tell would change that for either of them. Bobby was against resurrection in general, and Dean wasn't going to break his promise to Sam. I guessed in the meantime I could try to gather the rest of the ingredients, just to be prepared.

By the time the sun came up, I had 2 black cherry scented votive candles and a half-used white sage scented pillar candle that I'd gotten from Lisa's yoga studio and a silver table knife that I'd grabbed from a silverware box in the back of one of her bottom cabinets, dusty with disuse. I dropped the votive candles into a pair of socks and tucked everything into the pocket in the back of my duffel, congratulating myself on picking a duffel with that feature after the old one had been left behind with my snowman. I pushed the rest of my clothes on top of it and shoved my duffel back under my bed.

I still hadn't unpacked, despite having done all my laundry. I'd just shoved it all back into my duffel, ready to go like always, just in case.

By the time Dean, Ben, and Lisa were up, I was deeply embroiled in _Cars Race-O-Rama_ on Ben's PlayStation 3.


	3. Settling In

The first thing Ben said to me when he found me on the couch was "What are you playing that stupid game for? It's for babies. Mom got it for my cousin." He dropped down next to me and snatched the controller from my hands.

"Hey!" I objected and went to grab it back, but he'd already exited the game and started pulling up his own profile. I dropped my hands in frustration and watched him load up his NCAA Basketball game, seething the whole time. Don't react, I thought, forcing myself to take a few breaths before I added. "I was playing that. You could've asked."

"I don't have to ask," Ben said, his attention focused on the loading screen. "It's _my_ PS3."

"Yeah, well, _I_ was using it," I said. "And you're an ass." I got up from the couch.

Ben's eyebrows popped up. "You're not allowed to say that," he said, finally looking at me.

"You're not my dad," I pointed out. "I can say anything I want to you." I turned then and almost ran into Dean, who was coming in from the dining room. My stomach dropped.

"I am your dad, and watch your mouth," Dean said mildly, bopping me on the head with a newspaper. "Breakfast is going to be ready in 20 minutes. I want both of you dressed by then. You've got chores after breakfast." I groaned and went around him to get dressed. I half-expected him to come after me to scold me for calling Ben an ass and was a little surprised that he didn't. I wondered if he'd heard my side of what happened.

Once I was changed, I set the table just to have something to do that wasn't in the same room with grumpy Ben. Dean's pancakes and bacon smelled so good that I was practically drooling by the time Lisa called Ben to the table. She had to call him twice, but no one had to prompt me. I had 3 pancakes and four bacon loaded onto my plate before Ben came slouching into the dining room, pouting. He started complaining to his mom about how she interrupted his game.

"Dean warned you that you had 20 minutes and told you to get dressed." She looked him up and down and he flushed. "You're still wearing your pajamas, so I don't want to hear it. Eat your breakfast." She passed the pancakes to him, and Dean reached out and ruffled my hair.

After breakfast, I helped clear the table and emptied the dishwasher while Ben got dressed. Then, while he loaded the dishwasher, I cleaned our bathroom and helped Dean fold and put away our clothes, mine tucked safely in my duffel. My last chore was cleaning and reloading the fire pit Dean had made in the backyard for me. I grabbed my skateboard from under the bed and went to find Dean.

I found him with Lisa in their bedroom. They had their arms linked around each others' waists and they were staring into each others' eyes. I paused on the threshold before reminding myself that the door was open, so I wasn't really interrupting, right?

"Uh, Dad?" I said. He stopped staring at Lisa and they dropped their arms. "Can I practice skating on the driveway after I clean up the fire pit?" I asked as Dean turned toward me.

"Sure, sweetheart. Don't forget your helmet and pads," he replied and then leaned over to kiss Lisa. I wrinkled my nose and got out of there.

The backyard was basically everything you could want. Coming out the back door, there was a patio with a picnic table and a grill. Behind that was a nice, large stretch of lawn with a huge oak with a swing in the far left side of the lawn. Next to that, but out from under the tree, was a new, large metal shed that had my fire pit hidden inside it so the neighbors couldn't see what I was doing. The whole yard was fenced, but Dean didn't want to arouse any suspicions or let anyone spy on me. On the far right side of the lawn was a two car garage that the driveway led up to. And several feet out from the garage was a basketball pole where Ben spent a bunch of time playing, with or without his friends.

I'd been practicing on my skateboard for over an hour when Ben came out of the house with his basketball in his hands. He stopped in disgust when he saw me popping ollies under the basketball net.

"You have an entire stretch of driveway to practice on and you pick the one place I always use," he said to me, tossing the basketball in my direction. The skateboard landed flat and I hopped off it, annoyed, as the basketball flew passed me and bounced off the fence.

"Hey," I snapped back at him. "I was out here first. You want to use the stupid hoop, you could just ask me to move! You don't have to throw things!" I slammed my foot down on the back of the skateboard, popping it into my right hand. "And this spot is not yours, it's ours. You ever heard of sharing?" The kid was really getting on my nerves today, which was weird because up until now, he'd been generally neutral, or even nice, to me. Giving him one last glare, I turned and stomped away from him until I was almost to the front yard. But then I had to go back for my phone, which I'd had set up on the fence to record my moves.

Ben glared at me the whole time and when he finally started dribbling the ball and trying to shoot hoops, his movements were jerky with anger. I watched him for a minute before deciding I wanted to no part of it, and headed back into the house to find something else to do.

I didn't know what was up with him, but clearly he was pissed at me, and I knew that if push came to shove between us, he'd get the benefit of the doubt because he was younger and he didn't have the history I did. I sincerely doubted that he'd ever gotten so mad he'd punched someone in the face or almost set a house on fire. He wasn't the type. So I kept reminding myself not to react to him and to just walk away. Luckily, I managed to avoid him until dinner, the whole time itchy with anxiety.

At dinner, he acted normally. It had probably helped that Dean had gone out to shoot some hoops with him and that his mom had made us both a snack of apples and peanut butter. I'd hidden mine in the back of the fridge, too nervous to eat it, and slipped back into my room before Ben had even come in from outside.

After dinner was a different story. Ben and I were supposed to clean the kitchen after dinner. I was already putting away the leftovers when he stalked into the kitchen with a sullen expression.

"If you empty the dishwasher, I'll load it," I suggested as I shoved the bowl of green beans into the fridge. "And if you wipe down the counters, I'll do the stove."

Ben glared at me. "I want to do the stove," he said.

I shrugged, trying to ignore the irritating crawling up my spine. "Fine with me," I replied. I knew that he hated cleaning the stove top so the only reason he'd said that was to get to me. I reminded myself again not to react and started wiping down the counters while he finished up with the dishwasher. He seemed to take forever and I was left standing next to the sink practically twiddling my thumbs before he was finished. Sighing, I started loading the dishwasher while he headed to the stove.

I was only two or three dishes in when I heard, "No! That's not the right way to load it."

I turned to find Ben standing in front of the stove with his hands on his hips. A tight knot of irritation formed at the base of my neck. "The only 'right' way to load a dishwasher is to make sure all the surfaces can get clean," I explained through gritted teeth.

"Nuh-uh," he said. "Mom showed me the right way and you're doing it wrong." He tried to grab the bowl from my hand.

I didn't let go. "Yeah, well my mom showed me the 'right' way too and I'm doing it." I pulled a little on the bowl, hoping he'd let go.

"It's not your mom's dishwasher," he countered, yanking back on the bowl hard enough that I almost let go. I tightened my grip.

"You aren't loading it, I am," I snapped back, yanking even harder on the bowl. He yanked back, then me, then him, then the bowl cracked and slipped from both of our fingers, flying up in the air and falling to shatter spectacularly in front of the sink.

"Fuck," I shrieked, covering my face and head with my arms to protect them from any flying glass. Ben didn't though and suddenly he was crying, blood dripping slowly from the underside of his arm. Without really thinking, I grabbed a dishtowel and grabbed his arm, wrapping it quickly.

"Don't touch me," he snapped at me, yanking his partially wrapped arm back to finish the job himself.

Then our parents were standing at the entry into the kitchen, staring at us. Dean took one look at the situation and my bare feet and scooped me up, only to deposit me in one of the dining room's corners.

"But Dad," I started to object.

"Not one word, Jessie," he said, and I was certain I was sunk. He went back into the kitchen to check on Ben and I could hear all three of their voices, but not what they were saying. I wanted to cry. I'd thought that in this kind of situation, I'd be the one taking the brunt of the trouble, but to actually have it happen hurt… a lot.

But then I heard Lisa leading Ben into the room, a quick glance showing they had bandaged the cut on his arm, and she put him in the corner opposite the room from me. The hurt in my chest let go a little. At least I wasn't the only one in trouble.

We stood there for only a couple minutes, way less time than Dean normally left me in a corner, before Lisa said, "Ok, both of you, come out and sit down." I turned to see that they had pulled two chairs out at the table. Both of them were standing on the other side of the table from the chairs, Dean with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"The bowl broke," I replied. "And…"

"I can see the bowl broke," Dean broke in. "How did the bowl break?"

"Jessie wasn't loading the dishwasher right, and I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't let me!" Ben burst out, completely red-faced and clearly unused to this kind of attention.

"We were basically playing tug of war with it," I admitted softly, looking at the table.

"You could've seriously hurt yourselves, you know that?" Lisa demanded. "What made you think fighting over a Pyrex bowl was a good idea in the first place?"

I shrugged, but Ben couldn't be still. "She was doing it wrong! She does everything wrong."

"I do not!" I snapped back, turning towards him. "I was doing it the way my mom taught me!"

"You're supposed to do it how my mom says!" Ben shot back.

"I don't care how the dishes get loaded," Lisa broke in. "I just want them clean. And that's no reason to argue."

"What's is going on with you two?" Dean asked. "Ben, you've been in a bad mood all day, and Jessie, you've been avoiding him. And that's what led up to this, isn't it?"

This time we both shrugged.

"Not good enough, young man," Lisa said with a stern expression. "What is going on?"

Ben mumbled something that even I couldn't hear, and I was right next to him.

"What was that?" Lisa asked, tilting her head like a confused puppy.

"She's always here," Ben exploded, his body stiff with frustration. "I get up, she's playing my games. I go to play basketball, she's on her skateboard right under it, even though she had to know I'd be out there eventually…"

"I'm supposed to read your mind?" I asked him.

"I've been out there every day since school let out!" Ben said.

"Jessie," Dean said, and when I looked at him, he shook his head. Ben kept going though.

"I can't even sleep! She wakes me up every two or three hours because she's having nightmares. Every night! How am I supposed to sleep if she won't be quiet!"

I blanched and looked down at the table again, only glancing up a little to gauge Dean's reaction to that tidbit, which thankfully only seemed to be worry.

"And do you know she hasn't even unpacked yet? She keeps all her stuff shoved into her duffel and her backpack like she's going to take off the next chance she gets."

"So?" I demanded, stung. "What do you care? If I ran off, you'd be the precious only child again. Isn't that what you want?"

"No!" Ben snapped back. "I want you to like me! And I want to be able to sleep!"

"I do like you!" I yelled at him. "And I want to be able to sleep too!"

"Okay, okay," Dean said. "Enough yelling."

"Ben, apologize to Jessie for how you treated her today," Lisa said.

His face still red, Ben looked toward me without looking at my face, and said, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry my nightmares have been keeping you up," I replied. "I can't really do anything about it."

"I know," Ben said.

"Jessie, come with me," Dean said, holding out his hand. I sighed and got up. Here it was, where I get a more private scolding about how I needed to be nicer to precious Ben and let him have what he wants. I slouched over to Dean and put my hand in his.

He led me to my half of the room and held the curtain aside for me. I slipped inside and went to sit on my bed, but he grabbed my arm before I got that far and sat down on my bed himself, pulling me into his lap before I knew what was happening.

"Tell me about your nightmares, sweetheart," he said.

I went still. "I don't want to," I said, looking down at my hands. He lifted my chin with a finger and made me meet his eyes.

"I want you to," he said quietly, his face soft with sympathy. He wrapped an arm around me and hugged me to him. His kindness undid me. I burst into tears and unloaded everything I'd been dreaming about for the last week, all the blood, all the guilt, and he held me to him, rocking me the whole time.

"Why didn't you come get me?" he asked. I gave him a look, and understanding dawned on his face. "Oh." He thought for a second. "You can still come get me. You won't interrupt."

"But Dad, I can't sleep with you with her there."

"You can," he said.

"I don't want to," I replied. "It's weird."

"We have to do something, kiddo. You need your sleep. I think it's time to pull out the Benedryl again."

"No! That crap makes me so tired, even when it's only a half! I don't want to be groggy all the time…"

Dean sighed. "All right, let me think about it, but if I can't come up with anything, then you're taking the Benedryl, no arguments."

"Ok," I said and leaned against him. He hugged me to him and for once didn't correct my answer.

That night at bedtime, I was sure I was going to have to take a Benedryl, but instead, Dean came in to tuck me in with a book in his hand.

"Lisa had an idea," he told me. "Scoot over." I scooted towards the wall and he got into the bed with me and put an arm around me. Then he opened the book, something called _The Graveyard Book_ and started reading. I smiled and snuggled into his side, listening until the sound of his voice lulled me to sleep.

I had no nightmares, and the next morning, I unpacked my duffel and backpack.


	4. Moving

I hefted a box of books from the back of the moving van and turned towards the new house. Dean frowned and grabbed the box out of my arms. "I told you the books were too heavy for you," he scolded, putting the box back into the van.

"Clearly they're not since I lifted that one," I pointed out and went to pick it back up. Dean put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me away from the van, where Lisa and Ben were working to push the boxes at the back of the van to the front of the van for us to carry in, to the middle of the front lawn.

"Stop arguing with me unless you want to switch with Ben," Dean warned, lifting my chin up so I was meeting his eyes. "Do you want to switch with Ben?"

"No!" I said. "I want to work with you, but…"

"No buts," Dean said. "This is the second time I've had to tell you not to lift boxes that are too heavy. Disobey me one more time and you're switching. Are we clear?"

"I'm strong," I objected, deliberately leaving out the "but". "He's only 10. I can carry more than he can."

"You are," Dean agreed. "And I want you to stay that way, so don't take on more than you can handle. Now, are we clear, or are you switching?"

"We're clear," I grumbled, refusing to look at him.

"Good, let's go. We've got a lot to do before tonight." He turned and I trudged after him back to the van.

It was the end of June, a month since we'd moved in with Lisa and Ben, three weeks since Ben had blown up at me, and since then, we'd become pretty good friends. Dean kept up reading to me at night, and Ben had started coming in to join us. I still had nightmares sometimes, but they hadn't been as bad, and Dean had me doing that thing where you write out the nightmare and then work to change it into something you control.

Unfortunately, that made me think of Sam. I still missed him, a lot. There was a constant ache of loss in the pit of my stomach, just like there had been when I lost Dean a couple years ago. I tried to ignore it, and mostly that worked, but sometimes late at night, I'd wake up with tears streaming down my face, nauseated with grief.

The first time that happened, Ben had called over from the other side of the bookcases to see if I was ok. The second time, he'd come over into my half of the room and talked to me. The third time, he'd come in and held my hand while I sobbed into my pillow. The fourth time, he'd climbed on top of the blankets to sit next to me and rub my back while I cried, which he said his mom did for him when he was upset. After that, sometimes we'd wake up in the same bed in the morning, which didn't bother either of us.

Now though, we'd have separate rooms, and I was going to miss his comfort at night.

Running a hand over my hair, I grabbed a box of kitchen things and went to lift it, but it was at least as heavy as the books. I glanced at Dean and considered carrying it anyway, just to prove I could, but decided that I didn't want to be relegated to box pusher, and picked up the box next to it instead. Still kitchen things, but not likely to get me fussed at. I followed Dean into the house.

This house was much bigger than the old one. First off, it was two stories. On the first floor, it was kinda like our old house. When you came in, the dining room was on the right and the living room was on the left. The kitchen was behind the dining room. The hallway leading back to the kitchen ended at an alcove that led into a bathroom and an office. All the bedrooms were on the second floor. When you came in the front door, the stairway was right there, leading up to a landing with a bathroom that Ben and I were supposed to share. Dean and Lisa's room was on the left. Ben and mine were on the right. Ben's room was at the front of the house and mine was at the rear, next to the bathroom.

I had my own bedroom! I hadn't had a bedroom that was actually mine since my parents' house burned down. Even at Bobby's, he'd take over the room he had me sleeping in for one project or another and shuffle me into his old bedroom. But now I had my own bedroom, and Dean and Lisa had told me to stay out of it. I'd grinned, knowing I was in for a surprise.

Once we'd finished emptying the moving van, Dean and Lisa had disappeared upstairs while Ben took off on his bike to check out the block (he was supposed to stay out of his room too). We hadn't moved that far away from the old house, so he was still in his old school zone, and he had a couple of friends that lived nearby our new house. That was lucky for him. I had no one, so I went out to the backyard to start digging the new fire pit in the metal shed Dean had brought and set up. I had to dig a shallow hole, line it with stones, line outside the hole's lip with stones, and then stock it with the charcoal and wood we'd brought from the old house. Meanwhile, I could sort of see into my room through a window at the back of the house. At least I could see shadows and occasionally Dean or Lisa's head. They were setting stuff up in there, I just couldn't tell what.

Eventually, Dean caught me looking and waved me away from the window, closing the vertical blinds. I sighed and went to the side of the house. Dean had parked the Impala in the garage and covered it with a canvas tarp. He didn't drive the Impala anymore now that he'd gotten a construction job and a huge white truck, which was parked in the driveway in front of the garage. I hated it.

Glancing back at the house, I slipped into the garage through the side door and found the Impala. Dean kept the keys in his toolbox behind the car. I dug them out and pulled up the tarp to unlock the front door. Then I slipped into the car and opened the window so I could pull the tarp back down over the car. Then I climbed over the back of the front seat and lay down on the back seat, staring up at the familiar, safe ceiling. I closed my eyes and pretended we were headed down the road. Dean was driving and Sam was in the passenger seat. We were going to hunt a werewolf, and Dean was going to let me come along this time. He was going to teach me how to track the werewolf and then how to kill it. But first we had to get there, and Sam was being a pain in the butt about my schoolwork, but I finally talked him into letting me put it off to the next day so we could play 20 questions…

I woke up to Dean hollering my name. My heart bolted. I had no idea how long he'd been calling for me and he always got mad if he couldn't find me or I didn't answer him. Damn me for falling asleep anyway. I flung myself into the front seat, rolled up the window as fast as I could, and then climbed out of the front door, closing it just as Dean came into the garage.

"Where in the hell have you been?" he demanded. Then he looked around, taking in my messy hair, the unlocked car, and the pulled-back tarp. "I told you to stay out of the Impala! What the hell were you doing in there?"

"I was sleeping!" I shot back. "And you didn't! You told me to stay out of the trunk and I did that. I didn't go in the trunk at all. You can look if you want." I shoved the keys against his chest, and he grabbed them automatically.

"Well I'm telling you now, " he said, stalking around me to the tool chest at the back of the car. "Leave the keys alone and stay the hell out of the car." He pulled the drawer open and dropped the keys inside.

I stared at his back, panting. A tight knot formed in my stomach and tried to crawl its way up my throat. I closed my hands into fists at my side and burst out, "No! I'm not going to stay out of her." Dean turned around. I expected anger, but instead saw surprise all over his face. "I don't know why you decided never to drive her again, but I'm not staying away. I'm not!"

Dean's face closed. "Little girl, you are headed for a trip over my knee if you don't stop it right now."

"I don't care!" I yelled at him. "She's mine as much as she ever was yours! She's my home and I'm not giving her up just because you're not hunting anymore. I'll stay out of the trunk, but I'm not staying out of the car!" Dean closed the distance between us and grabbed me by my upper arms. Alarm shot through me, and I lowered my voice and changed my tone. "Please, Dad? Please? Don't take her away from me?"

Dean let me go and sighed, looking from the car to me and back. "This isn't the first time, is it?" he asked.

I shook my head and lowered my eyes, staring at the steering wheel through the window. "I visit her when I need… I don't know… her, I guess."

Dean nodded with understanding at last. "Fine," he said. "You can go in the car, but don't you ever start her up and you stay out of the trunk, like I said." He thought for a second. "And don't take Ben in? Understand?"

"Yes, sir," I said. Then I paused and looked at my feet. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you too," he replied. "I should've known why." He put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me to him. "You ready to see your room?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Yes!" I said, grinning.

Dean smiled back and led me into the house and up the stairs. He paused outside the closed door and covered my eyes with his hands. "Okay, Lis, open it."

I heard the door click and then Dean took away his hands. I gasped.

The room was beautiful. It was painted a light lavender. Across from the door was a bay window that looked out over the side yard and driveway. On either side of that window Lisa and Dean had put black bookshelves and stacked my books inside. Most of the shelves were still empty, but I knew that they'd fill up over time. Between the two bookshelves and in front of the window was a sleigh bed placed so that the header and footer were up against the bookcases and the seat in the bay window was pressed against the bed, effectively making the window part of my bed. Gauzy white curtains hung down over the windows and behind them were horizontal blinds so I could block out prying eyes. They'd used the same curtains and blinds over the window that looked into the backyard, but in front of this window they'd placed a deep purple chair with a stand light behind it, perfect for curling up to read. Next the the chair, on the same wall as the door into the room was my closet, and next to that was a black desk. Dean had draped my backpack over the chair back. There was nothing on the desk for now, but once school started that would change. The best thing was that hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room was a black and crystal chandelier shining shimmering light all over the room.

I turned to Lisa and Dean. "Oh my god, I love it," I gushed. I grabbed Lisa first because she was closer, and hugged her to me as tight as I could. "Thank you, Lisa."

Then I grabbed Dean. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"I'm glad you like it, sweetheart. I thought it was perfect for you," Dean said. He kissed my head. "My little princess."

I wrinkled my nose and pulled back. "Ew, Dad. I'm not a princess even if we're not hunting. And don't you dare call me pumpkin!"

Dean laughed. "Ok, fine, my little firecracker then."

I smiled at him. "That, I'll take."


	5. Unreaction

"I can't believe all the good deals we got," Lisa said, pulling into the driveway. "You got so many cute outfits."

I looked up from my phone. "Yeah. I really like them, but I still don't think I needed that one dress. It's too…I don't know. It's just too."

Lisa laughed. "You need at least one nice dress in case you have to dress up for special occasion." She put the car in park near the front walk.

"It's got _flowers_ on it," I complained, getting out of the car.

Lisa laughed again. "You liked it better than the plain ones," she pointed out, opening the trunk.

"That's because at least the skirt twirls," I replied, grabbing some of the bags. "And because the flowers are purple and blue."

"Well, relax," Lisa said. "It's not like you're going to have to wear it all the time." We walked up the front walk to the front door in content silence and Lisa let us in.

"I'm gonna go put everything away," I said, smiling, and grabbed the bags she was carrying too before racing up the steps to my bedroom. I hummed to myself while I removed tags and put away the clothes I'd bought with Lisa. I'd barely had a week's worth of clothes before the trip, but now I had way more, and I liked them all, even the fancy dress I'd complained about. She'd insisted on mostly shorts and t-shirts, since it was summer, and said we'd go shopping again in fall for school clothes. She'd also gotten me enough underthings to last for two weeks at a time, and got me a swimming suit for when we visited her sister, who had a pool. We'd had a lot of fun.

I was about halfway done when I heard Ben's laughter outside my window. Curious, I crawled across my bed and pulled back the curtain to look down on the backyard and driveway, and my heart about stopped. Dean had his truck pulled up in front of the garage and Ben was leaned forward turning some tool or another while Dean pointed at some grease-covered part of the engine. I could hear their voices but not what they were saying.

I knelt in the window seat and stared at them, a long, slow burn starting in my belly and tears filling my eyes. Dean had never, not once, asked me if I wanted to help while he worked on the Impala, and now, of course he'd ask Ben. I wiped tears from my cheeks and knelt back, still staring at them. Then Lisa came around the corner with a beer in her hand for Dean and a soda for Ben.

"No reaction," I muttered to myself. "You have to make this work. You can't react." But my furnace was thumping and I was reacting, no matter how much I told myself I couldn't. I tried to shove the hurt feelings down into my gut, but my brain whispered that I hadn't had any time alone with Dean except for the five minutes that he spent every night tucking me in, and here he was with Ben… And yeah, I'd been off shopping with Lisa, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same! He'd never taught me about fixing cars and now, here he was with Ben…

I turned away from the window and crossed my arms over my stomach. "It's okay," I muttered to myself. "He still loves you. He's just spending time with Ben. It doesn't mean anything…" But my heart told me it did mean something, it did! I fought tears and shoved away my feelings. I had to make this work. I'd promised. My furnace burned in my stomach and pounded in my head, so I tried to stop thinking and just breathe in and out to get everything under control.

After a couple minutes, it worked. My head stopped pounding and my furnace quieted. I could do this. I could, but I needed to get out of here. I needed some air and some space. We'd only been here a week. I could go explore the neighborhood. I knew Ben had gone riding around on his bike some, but I hadn't really been out of the house much since we'd gotten here. With short, fierce movements, I fastened on all my skating equipment and grabbed my skateboard from the closet.

I ran down the stairs and poked my head out the back door. "I'm gonna explore the neighborhood," I yelled out towards the three of them. "Be back later!" I quickly shut the door before any of them could object, and bolted across the house and out the front door. I'd just dropped the board on the driveway when Lisa hollered at me.

"Whoa, no," she said, jogging a little to catch up to me. "You've got chores to do."

My stomach flared and my mouth dropped open. "No, I don't."

She shook her head. "Sorry, sweetie, but you do. You got to skip them this morning so we could go shopping before the crowds got busy, but you still have to do them."

"That's not fair! What about Ben?" I demanded, putting one foot on the skateboard. I could just go, if I dared. Did I dare?

"Ben finished his," she said, her expression sympathetic. "You don't have that much to do," she added. "It's just vacuuming the upstairs hallway and your room, and cleaning the bathroom you guys share. You can finish it in an hour at most. You know the rule."

My stomach lurched. Of course he finished his. He'd had time at home to do it, and then when he was done, Dean let him help with the truck. Dean probably even waited for him to finish his chores to start working on the truck. It was so unfair. I'd had to get up early and go shopping because Lisa had been appalled at the amount of clothing I'd had. I had enough clothes. If I'd stayed home like Ben, I could be helping Dean now. It wasn't a fair trade.

My furnace pulsed again and I struggled to calm it. I struggled to calm me. I couldn't do the breathing thing with her standing right there in front of me with that expectant look. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't run, but I couldn't stay. I could feel pressure building within me to do something, to do anything…

"You can't tell me what to do!" I screamed at her. "I hate you!" She flinched and her mouth dropped open in shock. I slid away from her on the skateboard and rolled down the driveway, onto the sidewalk, and down the block.

I was away and I could breathe. For a moment, relief washed through me, but then guilt descended in a black cloud and I stopped, not even a block away. What the hell had I been thinking? Why had I screamed at her like that? After she spent all that time with me, and we'd had such a good morning together. Oh, no…

I turned and slowly skated my way back to the house. When I turned into the driveway, Ben and Dean were both hugging Lisa right where I'd left her. At the sound of my skateboard, Dean kissed the top of her head and let her go, stalking towards me.

"Dad," I started to say. "No, wait, I'm sorry." But he grabbed my arm anyway and pulled me into the house and up the stairs to my bedroom. I protested the entire way. "I didn't mean to say it, I swear," I objected, but he still said nothing and sat down on my bed, pulling me over his lap.

His hand descended, hard, on top of my jeans. I shrieked and he swatted me again, over and over. I kicked and whined until he put me on my feet. "Get your hairbrush," he said.

"Dad, please? I didn't mean it. I know…"

"Now, little girl," he snapped. I jumped and grabbed my hairbrush off my dresser, handing it to him.

"Drop your jeans," he ordered.

"Daddy…"

"Now."

My hands trembled as I undid the button and zipper, but I didn't let them fall. I raised my eyes and looked into his, my bottom lip trembling. He raised his eyebrows and I slowly let go of the waistband. The jeans started slipping down my hips, and Dean pulled me back over his lap.

The hairbrush came down hard and I started crying right away, the sharp, burning smacks peppering my butt. I wished for all the world that he would say something, anything, but he just kept spanking. When he was done, my butt was throbbing and I was sobbing over his lap.

He dropped the hairbrush on the bed and put me on my feet, my jeans puddled around my ankles. He took my chin and pointed at my nose. "Don't you ever talk to Lisa like that again. Not ever. She doesn't deserve to have a spoiled teenager treat her like that."

More tears slipped from my eyes at his words. "I know," I whispered. "I was already sorry."

"Not sorry enough," he replied, letting go of my chin. "Get your jeans back up and get in the corner."

Flushing, I pulled my jeans back up around my hips and fastened them. "Can I please go apologize?" I asked him.

He shook his head, his jaw set. "Corner or we'll go another round. Is that what you want?"

"No, sir," I replied and trudged to the corner, crossing my arms around my midsection.

"Hands at your side," he snapped. I swallowed and dropped my arms. He was really pissed at me. I mean, not as mad as when I disobeyed and followed on hunts, but definitely madder than when I backtalked or insulted him. I wanted to rub my butt to relieve the throbbing, but I knew he'd be all over me if I moved again, so I had to stand there and just feel it.

After forever passed, he let me out of the corner and made me stand in front of him. "And what sin did Lisa commit to make you scream at her that you hated her?"

I flushed, embarrassed, and murmured, "She wanted me to do my chores before I went skating."

"Wow, what a bitch," Dean mocked. "No wonder you yelled at her."

I looked away from him and wiped tears from my burning cheeks.

"And what are you supposed to do when she tells you to do something?" he continued.

"You said," I started and then paused, trying not to cry. "You said that if she said it, then it was just like if you said it." I burst into tears then, ashamed and guilty.

"That's right," he said.

"I'm sorry," I cried, almost hopping with how upset I was. "I know I screwed up. I left, but then I came back to … to apologize, but you didn't let me. She took me out for breakfast and shopping, and she got me all those clothes, and then I went off on her and she didn't deserve it and it was all because of YOU!" I wailed, tears streaming down my cheeks and neck. I tried to wipe them away, but my hands were already wet.

"Me?" Dean said, taken aback. "What the hell did I do?"

"You… you were… out there with Ben, showing him… you know, how to fix the truck…"

"Yeah? So?"

"You never did that with me. You never asked me to help you fix the Impala or that truck or anything. You never spend any time with just me and you were with hiiiiiiim," I cried.

Dean pulled me into his lap and my butt landed hard on his thigh. I barely noticed. I just wrapped my arms around his neck and sobbed into his flannel. "Jesus, Jessie, what was I supposed to do? Huh? Ignore him the entire time you were gone?"

"Noooo," I whimpered, my face pressed into his shoulder. "That's dumb."

"Was I supposed to say no when he asked if he could help fix the truck? Because he asked me, Jessie. I didn't ask him."

"No," I said, my tears beginning to stop.

"Do you want to help me fix the truck?" he asked.

I sniffed and raised my head, my cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "No…"

"What am I supposed to do?"

I let go of him then and stared down at my lap. "I dunno."

Dean sighed then. "What did I tell you before we moved in with them? Huh? Look at me." When I did say anything or look at him, he took my chin in his hand and made me look. "Well?"

"You said that," Feeling my stomach tighten and tears well again, I paused and took a breath. "You said that… that I had to try to make it work."

"What else?" he asked. I shrugged. "I said that I might not be able to pay as much attention to you as you're used to, didn't I?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling my chin away. "But you didn't say that you wouldn't pay any attention to me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You really think I'm not paying any attention to you? Huh?"

I squirmed, looking back down at my lap. "I mean, you pay attention to me, but it's not just me. It's everyone."

"And what did you promise me that you'd do?"

"That I'd try to be happy in a normal life, and I am trying, Dad. I am! It's just hard."

"Yes, you promised me that you'd try to be happy," Dean said. "But you also promised me that you'd come get me when you need me." He pried my chin back up to make me look at him again. "Have you been doing that?"

"Noooo," I whispered. I'd forgotten about that part of the promise.

His eyes bored into mine. "No, you've been shutting all your feelings away and trying to just make it through again, haven't you? Instead of talking to me?"

"You told me to!" I exclaimed.

"I what?" Dean demanded.

I swallowed. "You told me to. How's our new life going to work if I'm complaining all the time about it?"

"You can't hide your feelings and suck it up and expect that to make things better. How can anyone fix it if no one knows you're unhappy? You have to come to me, Jessie. You have to talk to me."

"Ok," I whispered, trying not to look at him.

"Do I need to spank you again?" Dean asked.

"No!"

"Then look me in the eyes and answer me right."

"Yes, sir," I said, meeting his eyes.

"Now get your ass up and go downstairs and apologize to Lisa. It better be a long one, too, with no excuses. And you better never, ever talk to her like that again. We clear?"

"Yes, sir," I said again, and got to my feet.

I found Lisa in the living room watching a movie. At least she wasn't crying anymore.

"Lisa?" I asked from just inside the doorway. She looked at me and her eyes were all red. My whole body felt hot. I dug the toe of my sneaker into the carpet. "I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean it." I said, staring down at my dirty sneakers. I glanced up to see how she was reacting, but she was just sitting there looking at me. I took another step into the room. "I mean, we spent the whole morning together and I had such a good time. You bought me all those clothes and I really like them," I explained, my own eyes tearing up. I looked back down at the floor. "And then we got home, and I got upset at Dad, and I took it out on you. And I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry. I don't hate you. I really, really like you, I didn't mean to be mean and ungrateful…"

Lisa stood up and crossed the space between us, closing me in her arms. "It's ok, Jessie, I accept your apology."

I lifted my face and looked up into hers. "Dean didn't have to punish me to make me sorry," I said. "I was coming back to apologize, but then he grabbed me and I didn't get a chance to. I didn't mean it. I swear. I won't do it again."

"It's ok," she said and held onto me a little longer. When she let me go, she was actually smiling a little. "Are you ready to work on your chores now then?"

I nodded. "You can even give me more if you want, so I can make it up to you."

She laughed. "That's ok, I don't think I need to do that. Go on, get to work, and then you can go out and explore on your skateboard."

"Thanks, Lisa," I said, and when I turned to go back to the stairs, Dean was on the bottom step, smiling at me.


End file.
